


Widogast-Tealeaf, C. Romantic poetry in Ancient Sylvan.

by CrunchyWrites



Series: The Descriptivist's Approach (full text and footnotes) [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, imagine sugar but condensed, that's this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-21 07:18:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16572125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrunchyWrites/pseuds/CrunchyWrites
Summary: Molly has a very certain, very particular proposal plan in mind.Unfortunately for him, Caleb beats him to it.





	Widogast-Tealeaf, C. Romantic poetry in Ancient Sylvan.

**Author's Note:**

> People were asking for the proposal story, so here it is. Enjoy x. Also, for anyone who likes music, [here's](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R8aMXoYUL-4&t=0s&list=PLOsr1fN2fnRatOJsGmjl0PyNg_rixPgTj&index=2) the tiny playlist I was listening to as I wrote this.  
> Many thanks to the ever-wonderful Eileen for beta reading this <3

The proposal was supposed to happen like this.

Molly was going to plan the perfect day for Caleb. He was going to wake him up with kisses and soft, loving touches, watching Caleb’s eyes flutter open as he woke up enough to kiss back. He was going to touch Caleb wherever Caleb wanted to be touched, and he was going to delight in the feel of Caleb’s hands tangling in his hair, and when all was done, and they were both content and satisfied, he was going to make Caleb breakfast. He was going to make everything that he knows Caleb enjoys this early on in the day, and top it off with a mug of Classic Widogast, and he was going to put it down on his desk because Caleb hates eating in bed and the risk of crumbs and spillages more than anything else, and it was going to be _wonderful_.

And then, after breakfast, Molly was going to take Caleb out. He was going to tell Caleb what he had planned because unexplained excursions make Caleb nervous and twitchy, and he was going to take Caleb to a small bookshop that he had just discovered tucked away in a quiet part of town, and make idle conversation with the shopkeeper as Caleb got himself lost amongst the tomes, and then he was going to take Caleb to Pumat’s. They were going to have lunch, and chat with whichever Pumat was at the counter, and Molly was going to hold Caleb’s hand, and press kisses to his cheek, and marvel that this man, that this stunning, wonderful, _beautiful_ man was his partner, and look completely lovestruck in the middle of Pumat’s shop.

Molly had been tempted to plan to propose then, but he doesn’t want to make Caleb uncomfortable with being the centre of attention, and so he hadn't.

Instead, he plans to propose at home.

He plans to propose when they’re relaxing in the wake of a long, _long_ museum visit, with Molly taking Caleb to the new VIP exhibit on Ancient Sylvan texts. He was going to walk with Caleb through the nearly-empty exhibit rooms, smiling to himself as Caleb got so excited that he resorted to speaking in Zemnian, and then he was going to kiss him quickly in a quiet corner, feeling Caleb’s smile against his lips and Caleb’s hands against his waist, and then he was going to take Caleb back to the home that they share. He was going to hold Caleb’s hand, and time it just right so that the sun set above the canals as they walked alongside the water, and then he was going to tug Caleb over to the couch for more kisses and cuddles as soon as they’d evicted Frumpkin from his favourite spot at one end of it. He was going to kiss Caleb silly, and ask Caleb all kinds of questions about the Ancient Sylvan that they’d just saw, and marvel at Caleb’s knowledge and expertise as Caleb excitedly answered all of his questions.

And then he was going to propose.

He was going to sit up slightly on the couch, and pull the ring box out from his pocket, and watch understanding dawn in Caleb’s eyes. He was going to clear his throat, and think back to every moment that he’s spent with this incredible, ridiculous man, and then he was going to open the ring box, and recite the Ancient Sylvan proposal that he’d spent months practising.

And Caleb was going to say yes.

Unfortunately, that’s not how it happens.

Instead, the proposal happens like this.

It is an entirely, absolutely, completely normal Friday evening. They’re cuddling in bed, a movie playing on Molly’s open laptop, and Molly has his head resting on Caleb’s chest, one arm draped loosely over Caleb’s body. One of Caleb’s hands is in Molly’s hair, playing lazily with the dark purple strands. Molly’s been growing it out for a while and it’s starting to tumble past his shoulders now, gathering beneath his horns in lovely flowing locks. He likes how it looks, and Caleb does too – he pauses periodically to duck his head and press a kiss to the top of Molly’s head, his other hand resting warm and comfortable on Molly’s thigh. It’s nice. It’s comfortable. Molly is already feeling like he’s starting to doze off, lulled by the warmth of Caleb’s body against his own and the quiet sounds of the subtitled movie. He is warm, and content, and so absolutely, perfectly, quietly happy.

He loves Caleb, and Caleb loves him, and this is his life now. His life is cuddling with his boyfriend of several years in the small house that they share together, their cat sleeping comfortably in the living room on the floor below. His life is going to the carnival, and practising with Jester, and hanging out with Yasha and Beau and Nott at lunch, and seeing Fjord whenever he manages to pull a muscle or mess up a joint, and then coming home to his boyfriend. His life is listening to Caleb talk about his work, and his research, and his students, and falling a bit more in love with him every single time.

His life is knowing that he will not be forgotten. His life is knowing that he is loved, and that he loves in return; not just Caleb, but everyone in his strange, unexpected family

Molly smiles to himself and cuddles a bit closer in to Caleb’s body. This is his life, and he loves it.

“Mollymauk?” Caleb asks softly.

Molly cracks open an eye, hardly even aware that he’d shut them. “Mm?”

“Marry me?”

…Oh.

_Oh_.

Molly blinks. He- he can’t have heard that right. Surely he can’t have heard that right, because if he heard that right then it means that the entire time he’s been planning his own proposal, thinking and dreaming and hoping to devote himself to this man forever, Caleb has been doing much the same.

Molly knows what he heard, though. He knows what his hearing is like, and he could never mistake Caleb’s voice for being anyone else’s.

Still, there’s no harm in making sure.

“I- what?”

Caleb swallows. Beneath his head, Molly hears Caleb’s heart skip a beat, but when he speaks again his voice is entirely level.

“Marry me?” he says again.

Molly shuts his eyes. He just- he needs to- he needs to get his heart under control, for starters. He can feel it starting to beat faster in his chest, thrumming away delightedly beneath his skin, and while he _desperately_ wants to say ‘yes’ as soon as possible he also rather feels that if he were to open his mouth right now all that would come out would be an excited squeak.

“I’m sorry,” Caleb murmurs quietly, just as Molly is about to speak. He shifts a little like he’s trying to sit up and he drops his hand from Molly’s thigh, balling it in the duvet instead. “I- I’m sorry, Mollymauk, I wasn’t thinking, you can- you can ignore that, I’m-”

“Did you mean it?” Molly butts in. Caleb freezes beneath him and Molly takes the pause to sit upright himself, twisting around to look up at Caleb. Caleb’s eyes are wide in the darkness of their bedroom, illuminated only by the flickering lights of the movie, and without looking Molly reaches behind him and hits the spacebar to pause the film.

Immediately, all he can hear is their quiet breathing.

“Caleb,” Molly says quietly, when Caleb continues to not reply. He reaches out, waiting for the flicker of eyes that he knows means Caleb’s consent, and takes Caleb’s hand in his own, squeezing it tightly. Caleb’s fingers flex around his, the pads of his fingertips a familiar touch against Molly’s skin. Molly swallows. His throat feels dry, his heartbeat thundering in his ears for all that the room is almost entirely silent. “Caleb. Did you mean it?”

Caleb blinks.

“…Yes,” he says eventually. His voice is quiet, practically inaudible over the ceaseless drumming of Molly’s heart, but it’s clear and certain. There’s no doubt in it that Molly can hear; there’s no uncertainty, no hesitation. Caleb may be nervous – even without hearing it in his voice, Molly knows Caleb well enough to know that he must be – but he’s certain all the same. He meant this. He means it.

He’s asking Molly to marry him.

“Oh,” Molly says softly. It’s all he can say. It’s all he can think to say.

“I’m sorry,” Caleb says again. He lifts a hand, scrubbing it roughly over his eyes. “This was- I did not mean to spring this on you, Mollymauk, I’m sorry, you can-”

“Yes.”

Caleb freezes. “… _Was_?” he asks, his voice so soft and uncertain that Molly feels his heart threaten to break. Caleb sounds like he wasn’t expecting Molly to answer like that. He sounds like he wasn’t expecting Molly to say _yes_.

But that’s okay. Molly can just say it again, and keep on saying it for as long as Caleb needs to hear it.

“Yes,” he says again. He can feel a smile crawling across his face now, tugging at the corners of his lips, and he couldn’t stop it if his life depended on it. Molly reaches out, pausing for Caleb’s approval before taking Caleb’s other hand, and uses the contact to pull himself in closer. “ _Yes_ , Caleb. I’m saying yes.”

Caleb blinks. “ _Du_ \- you- you are saying-”

“I’m saying that I want to marry you, Caleb.”

“Oh,” Caleb says faintly. “Oh. Oh!” His eyes grow wide, understanding and delight dawning across his face all at once. “Mollymauk!”

Molly grins back at him. He wants to kiss Caleb. He wants to kiss Caleb so badly. He wants to kiss Caleb to convey with actions what he cannot possibly convey with words – to show Caleb how absolutely, completely, utterly in love with him he is.

And so he does.

He leans forwards, pressing his lips to Caleb’s without a second thought. For a split second Caleb freezes at the contact, but the pause is barely noticeable before he kisses back, his lips soft and warm against Molly’s.

“I’m sorry,” Caleb murmurs, the words getting lost amongst the kisses, and Molly gives a short, amazed laugh and leans back.

“For what?”

“I don’t- I don’t have a ring,” Caleb admits, but despite the slightly uncertain tone to his voice he’s still smiling. “I- I’m sorry, _Liebling_ , I… I didn’t really plan this, I just- I felt like I had to say it, and so I, ah, I don’t- I don’t have a ring-“

“Caleb,” Molly interrupts. He lifts his hands, placing them on both sides of Caleb’s face, and leans forwards to press their foreheads together. He can feel the wide, delighted grin on his face; he can feel his heart singing beneath his ribs. “Caleb,” he says again. “Darling… I really don’t care.”

“ _Was_?”

“I don’t care,” Molly repeats. “I don’t- Caleb, dear heart, I’m not going to care that you don’t have a ring when you just asked me to _marry_ you!”

Caleb blinks. This close up, his eyes are little more than a fuzzy puddle of blue. Molly loves them anyway. “…You don’t mind?”

Molly shakes his head a tiny bit. “Not at all,” he promises. “Not even slightly. I can get a ring later, Caleb.”

“I’ve been trying to find the perfect ring for you for months,” Caleb mutters and Molly freezes for a moment, his brain latching on to one word.

“… _Months_?”

Caleb nods. The motion of it brushes his nose against Molly’s and Molly leans in to press a kiss to Caleb’s cheek without even thinking about it. It’s habit now, instinct, just as it is to prepare two mugs of tea or coffee in the morning, or to tease Beau at the carnival, or to buy Caleb’s favourite snacks when he sees them in the shops. He barely even realises he’s done it until Caleb returns it with a kiss of his own.

“Months,” he confirms. Molly thinks he can see a blush on his cheeks. “I have, um… I have been entertaining thoughts of this for a while.” He grins sheepishly, lifting a hand to half cover his face, peering up at Molly from beneath his fingers. “I was, ah… I had much grander plans than this, I assure you.”

Molly laughs. “You and me both, love.”

Caleb frowns a little. “But you… you did not know my plans, Molly.”

“Oh, I know. I was talking about my own plans.” There’s a pause. “I was planning to propose to you,” Molly admits, and Caleb’s eyes grow wide.

“ _What?_ ” he asks. “When?”

“I don’t know; whenever the weather was right for it. Probably a few weeks from now? I know you’re busy at the moment, love.”

Before him, Caleb’s entire expression softens. “Molly,” he says softly. Molly can’t help but smile; even now, years down the line, he still loves how his name sounds on Caleb’s lips. “I- Molly, _Liebling_ …”

“I had the ring and everything,” Molly continues. Caleb looks awestruck before him, shocked and amazed and so perfectly, wonderfully _delighted_ at hearing Molly’s words. Molly wants to keep him looking like that. He wants Caleb to be this happy, and this soft, and this delighted forever. “And I’ve checked with Nott, too – I mean, I didn’t exactly ask her for permission, but I told her that I was thinking about it and made her promise not to tell you.”

“How much did you promise her?” Caleb asks faintly.

“A bag of lemons, three tins of the fancy tuna that she likes, and one of the charms off my horns.”

“Which one?”

Molly turns his head and taps where the now-missing charm would normally sit. “Just the little star. The silver one.” He turns his head back just in time to watch Caleb pull his gaze away from where a pair of different charms would normally sit if they weren’t resting with the rest of Molly’s jewellery in a little dish on the bedside table - the Ancient Sylvan symbols for ‘M’ and ‘T’, or as close a translation as Caleb could get. Caleb had bought them for Molly for their first anniversary; they were meant to be a reminder that even if a hundred, a thousand years were to pass, Mollymauk Tealeaf still would not be forgotten.

“The silver star with the amber in it?” Caleb asks. Molly nods. “Oh. But you like that one.”

“It was a fair price to pay,” Molly says easily. “And it was completely worth it, too.”

“ _Ja_?”

“Yeah! Nott gave me her absolute approval, which was unexpected but no less lovely.” Molly grins. “And it means that now we don’t have to worry about how she might react; she already knows that I was planning to propose, so it shouldn’t be too much of a surprise to find out that you did!”

Caleb makes a slightly sheepish face. “Actually…” he says.

Molly narrows his eyes. He knows that expression, and understanding is already starting to make itself known at the back of his head. “No. You didn’t.”

“I may have…”

“… You told Nott too? You told Nott that _you_ were planning on proposing?”

Caleb gives a small nod. “ _Ja_ ,” he confirms. “And, um, and Yasha.”

“ _Yasha_?”

“I wanted to be sure that I was not rushing anything,” Caleb says, but he’s smiling, his hands gentle on Molly’s hips. “You know me, Mollymauk.”

“I do,” Molly replies. He can’t hide the aching fondness in his own voice. “I do, darling. And I must say, this _does_ explain why both Yasha and Nott kept giving me pointed reminders about how nice the weather is.”

“Did you also get those _looks_ from Nott?” Caleb asks and Molly nods.

“Oh, all the time. The ones that seemed to ask ‘have you actually proposed yet, and if not, why?’”

Caleb grins. “I beat you to it,” he says, and Molly can only laugh. Gods. _Gods_. What a brilliant, _ludicrous_ man. Molly loves him with everything he has.

“You did,” he agrees. “You did, love.” He pauses, grinning. “… I still want to propose to you, though. Properly. With my plan and everything.”

“Please do,” Caleb says immediately. He’s beaming just as much as Molly is, his eyes sparkling in the dim light of the laptop screen. “Please, Molly, I would- I would love that.”

“But,” Molly adds quickly, “only if you give me the full proposal one day. I want to be _wooed_ , Mr. Caleb.”

“Mr. Widogast-Tealeaf,” Caleb mutters quietly and Molly blinks.

Oh. Oh, Gods.

That could- that might- they getting _married_. They’re going to get actually, properly married at some point, and Caleb, if he so wishes, could be Caleb Widogast-Tealeaf. Caleb could carry Molly’s name with him, marked alongside his own for all the world to see, and Molly-

Molly could be Mollymauk Tealeaf-Widogast.

“Oh, my Gods,” Molly whispers and then he laughs, bright and loud and delighted as the realisation truly sinks in. “Oh, my Gods, _Caleb_!”

“ _Ja_ , that is me,” Caleb replies, as he so often does, and Molly laughs aloud again out of sheer love for this beautiful, ridiculous, _wonderful_ man. He tilts forwards, pressing his lips to Caleb’s in a messy, uncontrolled kiss that he can no more stop than he can hold the tide from its path. The kiss is barely there, caught up by laughter and giggles – giggles from both of them, now, the small sounds escaping Caleb as he presses his lips to Molly’s over and over again.

“ _Caleb_ ,” Molly sighs. He lifts a hand, resting it against Caleb’s face and brushing the tips of his fingers through Caleb’s hair. He can feel his tail shifting beneath the blankets, curling and uncurling in sheer, unfathomable delight; he can feel Caleb’s hand on his waist, on his back, tracing his scars and tattoos with the blind certainty of a man who knows Molly’s body better even than Molly himself does. “Oh, Caleb…”

“Molly.”

Molly laughs again. “I love you,” he says breathlessly. “I- _fuck_ , Caleb, I love you so much.”

Caleb grins. “I know,” he says. “I love you too, Mollymauk.”

“We’re going to get _married_.”

“We are.”

Molly can’t stop it; his tail lashes from side to side as he grins back at his boyfriend – no, at his _fiancé_ – happier than he has the words to describe. He feels like he’s been filled with sunlight, the warmth of it reaching through every inch of his bones and turning every part of him golden with joy. “You’re going to be my _husband_.”

“ _Ja_ , I will. And you will be my partner.”

Molly has seen Caleb wiggle in place before when he’s particularly happy about something, but he’s never done it himself. Not until now. He doesn’t know what else to _do_ – there’s so _much_ in him, so much joy and delight and wonder that he feels full to overflowing with it all, like there’s too much love in him for his body and his heart to possibly contain now or in a million lifetimes. He knows that he loves Caleb, and he knows that he will love Caleb for as long as his heart continues to beat and for longer than that still, but to have _this_ , to have this absolute certainty of equal, undeniable love, is almost too much for him to handle.

Molly grins so widely his cheeks hurt, leans forwards, and feels himself start to wiggle in place as he wraps both arms as tightly around Caleb as he possibly can. “ _Caleb!_ ”

Caleb gives a short, breathless laugh, made all the more breathless by the pressure on his ribcage. “Mollymauk,” he replies. Molly can hear the smile in Caleb’s voice; he knows how it looks on his face, and he know how it feels against his lips in a kiss.

Molly presses his face to Caleb’s neck and makes a muffled sound of sheer delight. “Oh, my _Gods_!”

“I know,” Caleb says with a laugh. He lifts his arms, wrapping them around Molly as tightly as Molly’s arms are wrapped around himself, and plays with the loose strands of Molly’s hair with the tips of his fingers. Molly feels a soft pressure against the top of his head and then against his cheek as Caleb starts to kiss a constellation across his skin, following the lines of the peacock on his skin. “I know, Molly, I- _Ich liebe dich_ , Molly _, Ich hab dich ganz doll lieb._ ”

_“Ich liebe dich auch_ ,” Molly mumbles back. _I love you too_. The Zemnian, once so strange on his tongue, feels familiar now. Molly has spoken that little phrase more times than he can count now, in Common, and in Zemnian, and in Infernal, and in Ancient Sylvan. He has spoken it with his hands, with touch and with comfort; he has spoken it in gifts of tomes and tea, in small acts of adoration and love, and Caleb has said it back to him in just as many ways.

_I love you_ , Molly thinks. Inside his body there is only sunlight.

“Fiancé,” he murmurs quietly, marvelling at the sound of it. He tilts his head up, pressing a kiss to Caleb’s jaw. “ _Fiancé_.” He never thought he could love a word so much. He keeps murmuring it between kisses, wanting to map every plane of Caleb’s face with his lips, but it doesn’t take long for him to get stuck at Caleb’s mouth, kissing him again and again and again as his hands drop to rest warm against Caleb’s waist. Caleb doesn’t seem to mind the ceaseless whispering – he’s mumbling words of his own just as much as Molly is, the unfamiliar Zemnian settling around Molly’s shoulders like a cloak. He loves hearing Caleb speak Zemnian. He loves hearing Caleb speak Zemnian, and Ancient Sylvan, and Common – he loves _Caleb_ , and everything that he does. He loves how Caleb fiddles with pens when he’s deep in thought; he loves Caleb’s absentminded habit of shutting drawers with his hip; he loves how Caleb stirs his tea for exactly four seconds whether he’s paying attention or not. Molly loves the slope of Caleb’s nose, and the shape of his hands, and the freckles that scatter across his face and shoulders and arms. He loves Caleb.

He loves Caleb.

He’s going to marry this man.

“Caleb,” Molly murmurs. Caleb’s name is a prayer on his lips, a devotion. “Oh, Caleb…”

“Molly.”

“I love you. You know that, right?”

Caleb laughs softly, his fingers flexing against Molly’s waist. “ _Ja_ , I know, love. I love you too.”

Molly grins and kisses Caleb again. “ _Fiancé_ ,” he says, just because he can, and Caleb laughs again, the sound light and easy. Molly kisses him once more, and then again after that, feeling Caleb laughing delightedly against his lips.

In the darkness of their bedroom the only sound is Caleb’s soft laughter as Molly continues to kiss him again, and again, and again, and Molly feels his heart singing with it.

\---

Molly proposes that weekend. He follows every step of his plan from start to finish, making Caleb breakfast, and taking him to the bookshop, and to Pumat’s for lunch, and then to the museum afterwards. He holds Caleb’s hand on the walk home and he manages to time it right so that they can watch the sun set above the canals as they walk. Caleb is smiling throughout the entire day, completely aware of Molly’s end goal, but he’s still delighted and surprised by everything that Molly has planned for him. He finds Molly in the bookshop a few times, reappearing from between the shelves to wrap an arm around his waist and press a kiss to his lips before disappearing again, and he keeps pausing on the walk home to kiss Molly over and over again. Molly’s hardly complaining. His face hurts from smiling by the time they finally get home, his fingers itching to pull the ring box free from his pocket so that he can finally, _finally_ ask Caleb to marry him, and he does as much within minutes of them evicting Frumpkin from his favourite spot on the couch.

When the Ancient Sylvan falls from Molly’s lips he sees tears gathering at the corners of Caleb’s eyes around his smile, and he knows that there are tears in his own eyes too.

Caleb, unsurprisingly, says ‘yes’.


End file.
